


Compartments

by Ladybug_21



Series: Compartments [4]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, COVID-19, F/F, Gen, Love in the Time of Corona, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladybug_21/pseuds/Ladybug_21
Summary: In the world of early 2020, survival unfortunately means separation—even for Jocelyn and Maggie, who have already spent far too much time apart.
Relationships: Jocelyn Knight/Maggie Radcliffe, Maggie Radcliffe & Paul Coates, Sharon Bishop & Jocelyn Knight
Series: Compartments [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660780
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Compartments

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, this—rather than all of the work that I actually need to get done—is apparently what happens when I go into precautionary COVID-19 self-isolation? As a fair warning, the quasi-familial dynamic between Jocelyn and Sharon in this story probably only really makes sense in light of a [previous story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894667) in this series, about the progression of the two barristers' complicated professional and personal relationship, both before and after the events of Season 2. Needless to say, I don't own the rights to any of the characters from _Broadchurch_.

When Sharon Bishop was Jocelyn Knight's junior, she resented every hour past six in the evening that she had to stay in chambers. But, later on, Sharon would reflect that Jocelyn's stubbornness might have been what saved the older barrister's life.

"Right," yawned Sharon at around ten at night, stretching her arms over her head, "let me print a copy to take home and review, and we'll call it a night, shall we?"

She glanced over at Jocelyn, whose expression looked suddenly unfocused.

"Jocelyn?"

"Yes, sorry," Jocelyn replied, shaking herself. "Could you repeat that?"

Sharon frowned.

"You feeling all right?"

"Fine," Jocelyn insisted, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

Sharon, unconvinced, stood and walked around the side of the table.

"May I?" she asked, holding out a hand.

"May you what?" sniffed Jocelyn, sounding a bit like her normal prickly self.

Without taking time to explain, Sharon put her hand to Jocelyn's forehead.

"Jesus, Jocelyn, you're burning up."

"I'm _fine_ ," Jocelyn repeated. She attempted to stand and immediately had to seize the back of her chair for support.

"Fuck," muttered Sharon, "Christ Almighty, _fuck_." She took a deep breath. "Okay, Jocelyn, I'm gonna drive you back to my place and set you up in my spare bedroom."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jocelyn snapped, lowering herself back into the chair.

"No, what would be ridiculous would be for me to let you go back to that hotel, which I'm sure is just crawling with pathogens from door handle to door handle. Or to let you go back to Broadchurch, heaven forbid, where you'd be at potential risk to yourself and others every step of the way, and Maggie most of all, when you got home. At least this way, I can keep an eye on you, get you to the hospital if things get worse."

"You're putting yourself at risk, though," Jocelyn pointed out.

"Jocelyn, we've been working on this case in incredibly close proximity for the past week and a half," Sharon reasoned. "I've no doubt been exposed to whatever you have a hundred times over, just from handing files back and forth."

"Mmm, well, I can't seem to poke any holes in that wall of evidence," Jocelyn acknowledged with a wan smile that Sharon returned.

"Come on," sighed the younger barrister, putting a hand under her mentor's arm for support. "Let's get you into bed."

* * *

Once Jocelyn was resting and well-supplied with water and soup, Sharon made all of the necessary phone calls: to the building in which her chambers were based, to let them know that there had been a potential contamination; to Jocelyn's hotel, to give them the same warning and to ask them to have Jocelyn's belongings sent over to Sharon's flat; to the judge presiding over her and Jocelyn's case, to explain the situation and request an extension (even if Sharon was reasonably sure that she could finish up the necessary filings in time from home, why _not_ take the extra time?). She called Jonah and left him a voicemail to warn him that if he decided to come back to her place, rather than lock down in his own flat, he'd have to stay on the couch because Jocelyn was occupying his room.

Finally, there was only one phone call left to make. Sharon hit the call button on her phone with a sigh.

"Hello?"

"Maggie? It's Sharon Bishop. Sorry to be calling so late."

"No trouble, was just getting ready for bed. Everything all right?"

"No," said Sharon bluntly, because tact had never been her strongest suit. "It's Jocelyn."

"Jesus," Maggie gasped. "What's happened?"

"She's sick," Sharon explained. "Running a really high fever. I've put her up in my spare room, and she's sleeping right now, but I plan to take her to get tested tomorrow."

"I'll be there right away," Maggie announced.

"No, you won't," Sharon replied curtly. "The best thing we can do right now is self-quarantine."

"You think Jocelyn's gonna go into quarantine without my being there for her?" raged Maggie.

"Look, be sensible about this," Sharon sighed. "You're over sixty-five, you're at nearly as high a risk as Jocelyn, and travelling to London is only going to put you at higher risk. I've been working with her all week, so staying around her isn't going to expose me to anything I haven't already had the chance to contract. And your being here isn't going to make her well any quicker."

Maggie was silent for a moment.

"I'll keep you posted as soon as anything changes," Sharon promised. "I'm sorry, Maggie."

"No," Maggie said, "I'm sorry. Sorry about this whole bloody situation. But thank you, Sharon, for being willing to look after her like this."

"Of course," nodded Sharon. "Stay safe out there."

"Oh, believe me," sighed Maggie, "all of Broadchurch has shut down for the moment. Shops closed, pubs closed, you name it. Not like you could find rubbing alcohol or toilet paper on a store shelf, if you even tried. Only thing that people still feel safe doing is going for walks along the beach or the cliffs. Still, I feel like it's only a matter of time." She paused. "When she wakes up, if she feels well enough, tell Jocelyn to call me, okay? And, if she's not feeling well enough to call me directly, please give her my love."

"Of course," Sharon repeated. "Take care."

* * *

Maggie still hadn't heard from Jocelyn by early the next morning, and since she was getting anxious just sitting around the house, she decided to go for a long walk to clear her mind. Not to her surprise, she soon found herself outside of the church, which was very much closed to the public. Maggie sat down on the steps and pulled out her phone. Still no message from Sharon or Jocelyn. She texted Sharon to ask for a status update, and then, after a moment's consideration, called a different number.

"Hello?"

"Paul? It's Maggie Radcliffe."

"Maggie!" Maggie could hear the smile in the earnest vicar's voice. "Long time, no speak. How goes the vlogging?"

"Oh, fine, you know. It's a brave new world out there. Trying not to feel slighted at the comparatively low number of hits that my extremely informative reporting garners."

Paul laughed.

"How've you been?" Maggie asked.

"Same," replied Paul. "Life trundles along. I miss the congregation at Broadchurch, though. It's a really good community out there, you know."

"Yeah." Maggie shifted slightly. "I'm sitting on the steps of your former church, actually. Enjoying the view. It's shuttered, for the moment, but I can almost imagine you walking through the aisles, quietly spraying down the pews with disinfectant and wiping them off. I think a lot of us could use your reassurance right now."

A pause, during which all Maggie could hear was the breeze and the cry of some bird in the distance.

"What's wrong, Maggie?" said Paul quietly.

"Jocelyn's sick." Maggie's face contorted, and she caught herself just in time before she brushed away her tears with her palm. "She's in London with a high fever and possibly the coronavirus, and I'm still here. Haven't been able to sleep a wink all night. I just feel so _helpless_ , knowing that there's nothing that I can do to help her, and that it would be worse for us to even be in the same place."

Maggie considered telling Paul that all she wanted to do was to be able to _hold_ Jocelyn, just to be able to physically touch the warmth of her skin and remind her that Maggie would be there for her always. But even though Paul was Paul, and even though these were extremely staid impulses in the grand scheme of Maggie's typical thoughts about Jocelyn, it still didn't feel quite right to Maggie to talk to her former vicar about such personal physical intimacies. Instead, she let out a sigh of frustration and kicked at a nearby weed that was growing from between the flagstones of the steps.

"I can't imagine how difficult things must be for you right now," Paul said. "You're absolutely right to stay where you are and keep safe. But I'll be praying for you, and especially for Jocelyn."

"Well, thanks," said Maggie. She hadn't expected much more than that, but she still wished that someone— _anyone_ —could offer something more than just thoughts and prayers.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways," Paul reminded her.

"Yeah, well, this really is all quite the mystery to me." Maggie stood up and turned around to face the silent church, as if that would help her suss out some divine plan. _In sickness and in health_ , she thought. God, she truly hated all of this. "Really ups the ante, in terms of uncertainty."

"I know," Paul sighed. "I've been trying to imagine what it must have been like during the Plague, or just back in 1918. Not even in my capacity as a vicar, just as a human being, trying to survive it all. Never imagined I'd live through a mass outbreak like this, where the government was so bloody _slow_ to react appropriately to people's suffering."

"Oh, petal." Maggie smiled grimly, knowing that Paul was too young to remember the 1980s all that well. "It's all too familiar to me."

"Just remember," Paul added, "Jocelyn knows how much you love her, and that you'll keep on loving her the exact same amount, no matter how much distance is between the two of you. Have you been able to talk via phone?"

"Not yet. Hopefully soon. I guess that's one advantage we have over 1918, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Paul hesitated. "You know, Maggie, once you're sure that Jocelyn's out of the woods, could I ask your help with something?"

"Sure." Maggie's hand was nearly touching her eye before she caught herself again and simply blinked her tears away.

"Well, you're such a crack YouTube journalist now, I was wondering if perhaps you could help me edit some sermons to be put online?" Paul asked sheepishly. "As a way to keep reaching out, even with local churches being closed for health purposes. Not right now, of course, but since you say the community could use some consolation, and maybe others out there could benefit from them, amidst all of this uncertainty."

"Why wait?" Maggie turned and began walking away from the church, back towards home. "I need _something_ to keep my mind off of all of this. When there's so little else in my life that I can control, helping spread your words of hope sounds like exactly what I need."

* * *

Sharon had been waiting all morning for Jocelyn to stop being quite so delirious, but she finally decided that it was better to text Maggie an update than keep the journalist in suspense.

_She's been feverish all morning, but I've been forcing her to drink water, and still no signs of respiratory problems. Local hospital has run out of COVID-19 tests and said to keep her at home and well-hydrated unless her condition gets worse. Will send more updates when available._

Sharon had just checked in on Jocelyn (still sleeping fretfully) and settled down at her desk to get some work done when her phone rang.

"Sharon? I just heard the news."

"Good god," Sharon sighed, "how do people find out about these things in a matter of hours?!"

"My best friend from uni's one of your opposing counsel," Ben explained. "I never would have forgiven her if she'd fought that request for an extension. How is Jocelyn? How are you?!"

"Surviving," replied Sharon grimly. "Fully stocked cupboards and plenty of toilet paper, so we're fine to stay in quarantine for as long as necessary. Jocelyn's fighting a high fever, but I'm making her drink water whenever she's at all conscious, and I don't know how much more I can do. NHS is now saying to stay home, and not to bother getting tested or even calling 111, unless symptoms don't seem manageable without hospital care."

"Yeah. God." Ben sighed. "Well, I'm hunkered down with the family, waiting for all of this to pass. But let me know if I can be helpful, in any way?"

"I will, thanks."

"You know," Ben said after a pause, "I'm so very glad that first impressions can sometimes be so incredibly wrong, Sharon."

Sharon laughed.

"Thanks, Ben, for not outright calling me the Wicked Witch of the West, even if that's definitely how I acted that entire bloody trial."

"We'll say you're the sympathetic version from the West End musical," Ben compromised. "Especially given that you're really going above and beyond what's expected of even a former pupil."

"Yeah, well." Sharon shrugged. "You happened to meet me at a moment in time when publicly shaming the great Jocelyn Knight was the sweetest form of revenge I could imagine, for her not being there for me when I needed her. I was a right arse about it, I'll fully admit. But, now that we've resolved our differences, and she's proven herself willing to be there when I need help, how could I not do the same for her?"

"Good luck with everything, Sharon," said Ben, his bemused smile evident in his voice. "Really, call me if you need anything."

"Take care of yourself, Ben," said Sharon, and, ending the call, she finally got back to work.

* * *

Maggie was about five minutes from picking up the phone when Sharon called her just before four in the morning.

"I've been waiting all day!" Maggie exploded. "Why the radio silence, Sharon?"

"Because nothing's changed until now," Sharon explained, trying to remain calm. "Her fever's just broken, temperature's gone down a degree or so; it's been almost a day and a half now, so I would have taken her into the hospital if it'd lasted much longer. I've been checking on her every half-hour, I promise I'd have let you know if things had been any different before now. And better to not say anything, than to make your heart rate jump with every unnecessary check-in text, right?"

Maggie truly resented how logical Sharon was being. Before she could stop herself, she broke down in tears.

"Jesus, I'm sorry," she sniffed. "You just can't imagine how difficult it's been, knowing that someone you love is in danger, and not being allowed to be there to comfort them..."

"Oh, believe me, I don't need to imagine, I know," said Sharon. "But think of it this way, Maggie. If you were here to nurse Jocelyn, and you fell ill and didn't recover, you know that Jocelyn wouldn't be able to live with herself. Your being in Broadchurch is sparing her that risk, at least."

"Yeah," said Maggie very softly.

"Hopefully, she'll be able to sleep through the night. I'll keep checking on her, just in case."

"God, that means a lot to me," said Maggie. "You'll be okay?"

"Yeah. Sort of reminds me of taking care of my son when he was an infant, actually, although not something I'll have to do for months on end, god willing. Assuming she's alert enough to speak with you tomorrow, I'll remind her to call."

"Thank you again, Sharon. For everything. Especially when Jocelyn's not your responsibility."

"Ah, well," Sharon smiled. "She made me who I am today, taught me everything I know about being a barrister. Seeing her through all of this, as best I can, really is the least I can do."

* * *

True to her word, Sharon checked in on Jocelyn all through the night, and by morning, the older barrister was finally somewhat lucid once more.

"How long has it been?" she asked in an exhausted voice as Sharon handed her a glass of orange juice.

"Only about thirty-six hours. Took a while for your fever to break, but you seem to have fought it and won quite handily."

Jocelyn sipped her orange juice and nodded.

"Do we know if it's...?"

"NHS isn't requiring tests without more severe symptoms. If you'd started having trouble breathing, I would have taken you into the hospital. But we have no way of knowing if this was a common flu or coronavirus, so we shouldn't leave this flat for the next two weeks, regardless."

Jocelyn almost succeeded in concealing a look of horror.

"Don't worry," sighed Sharon, "I have plenty of food, and you'll be able to work remotely, once you're no longer in danger of relapsing. It'll feel just like the old days, being in chambers at all odd hours, only minus the suits."

"I'm mostly sorry for imposing on you like this," Jocelyn said.

"It is what it is," Sharon shrugged. "You drink the rest of that, and then get some more sleep. I'll bring by some more water in a bit. But you should call Maggie right now, she's been out of her mind with worry about you. I wiped down your phone with rubbing alcohol, just to be safe."

Sharon closed the bedroom door, and Jocelyn took a look around. Sharon had tidied her spare bedroom into a guest-friendly space, but the dressers and bookshelves still featured old school photographs of Jonah and trophies from sporting events, the unobtrusive remnants of a childhood that probably had been mostly stored in plastic tubs in the back of the closet, once Jonah went off to uni. It was so strange being here, in the room of a man Jocelyn had known since he was a child, whom she'd once abandoned out of pure fear and later come back to help rescue from the clutches of the legal system. Jocelyn had dropped by Sharon's flat once or twice to hand off files and such, back in the day, but she never would have expected to find herself in quite so personal a space in her former pupil's home. These were indeed very unusual times.

Taking another sip of orange juice, Jocelyn leaned back against the pillows and video-called Maggie, who answered immediately.

"Jocelyn!" Maggie didn't even bother trying to hide her tears this time. "Oh, god, it's _so_ good to see your face."

"I should warn you that I'm in danger of dropping off to sleep any moment now, but I did want to call," Jocelyn smiled. "How are you?"

Maggie wiped her eyes with her fingers, frowned, and then explained, "Sorry, trying to remember the last time I washed my hands. I've been cleaning my keyboard and mobile off with alcohol wipes, anyway, so all should be well. I'm fine, petal. Just worried sick about you, and so, so glad to see that you're all right."

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, I've certainly been better," Jocelyn chuckled. "But I'm miles ahead of where I was this time last night, by Sharon's account, so I'll take the improvement. It sounds like Sharon and I are going to be cooped up here together for the next fortnight."

"Yeah," Maggie laughed. "She's been wonderful, though, Jocelyn. I take back every unkind thing I've ever said about her. I really couldn't be more grateful to her, for taking care of you like this. I just wish that I could be the one doing it all for you."

"No," said Jocelyn. "No. You know how much I wish I could be back home with you right now, Maggie. But your safety is the most important thing to me right now. I wouldn't jeopardise that for the world."

"I know." Maggie smiled. "I'll let you get some rest now, but please do call again, when you're feeling even better? Oh! I'm working on a new project, with a familiar face; I'll tell you more about it, once you've recovered a bit more and it's officially off the ground."

"I'll stay tuned," Jocelyn promised. "And Maggie? I love you."

"I love you, too." Maggie blew a kiss towards Jocelyn through the camera. "Get well soon."

* * *

Sharon refused to let Jocelyn have her laptop for the first few days of their shared quarantine, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as Jocelyn still kept drifting off to sleep at random moments. She developed a sneeze at one point, but after Sharon panicked and washed all of the sheets and wiped down every surface in Jonah's bedroom, the sneeze went away, and Jocelyn concluded that it was likely just an allergic reaction to some of the latent dust.

Finally, Sharon conceded that Jocelyn seemed well enough to get out of bed, and let her venture out into the dining room. The table quickly became an extension of Sharon's chambers, its surface covered in manila folders and files and printed pages covered with Jocelyn's edits in red ink. The two worked through meals, silently typing away over grilled cheese sandwiches and hot soup (neither of them could cook nearly as well as Maggie, but this certainly wasn't a time to be picky). Sharon was right, it really didn't feel all that different from working in chambers, except that rather than leaving for home in the evenings, the two barristers simply retreated to separate bedrooms when it was time to turn in. Jocelyn couldn't be more grateful that Sharon's flat was large enough for two people to manoeuvre comfortably while still granting each other a fair degree of privacy, especially given Jocelyn's nightly video calls with Maggie.

"Good lord," Sharon snorted as Jocelyn returned to the dining room after one of said calls, grinning from ear to ear. "I swear, it's like having a teenager living in that room again."

And perhaps it was a good thing that Jocelyn was there to keep an eye on Sharon, as well. When the younger barrister developed a dry cough towards the end of the first week, Jocelyn was the one to tug her laptop away, order her straight to bed, and bring her tea. The cough never developed into anything more serious, and Sharon was back out in the dining room within two days, but Jocelyn suspected that Sharon might have pushed herself too hard and ended up bedridden for far longer, if left to her own devices.

Finally, at the end of the two weeks, Sharon decided that it was probably safe to bring Jocelyn back to Broadchurch.

"NHS says that anyone who hasn't been symptomatic for the past week is fine to return to their normal routine," she reminded Jocelyn on the drive. "But you should still be careful. Don't go out unless you absolutely need to, wash your hands frequently for at least twenty seconds, wipe down all surfaces that you routinely touch..."

" _I know_ , Sharon."

"Just don't take any unnecessary risks, is all I'm saying," Sharon concluded.

"I'm a lawyer," Jocelyn retorted jokingly. "Aren't we known to be a statistically risk-averse lot?"

Sharon grinned.

"Never can be too careful, especially with your stubborn elders."

"I resent that."

"You resemble it, you mean," Sharon replied cheekily. "Well, I'm glad at least we had a remarkably productive week. Guess we probably didn't need that extension after all."

Jocelyn hummed her agreement.

"I know I've said it many times before," she added after a moment, "but I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me, Sharon."

"Don't mention it." Sharon smiled. "We're a team, Jocelyn. In fact, with apologies if this is stepping over the line, by this point we've been working together for so long that you're pretty much family. And no matter how mad they may drive each other, families look out for each other, you know?"

"Yes," Jocelyn agreed, since she didn't quite know what else to say.

"By the way," Sharon added, "this in no way forgives all of the long hours you've made me pull over the course of my career, but I'm damn glad that we were working late the night you fell ill. If you'd gone back to that hotel and fallen asleep while the fever set in, and not woken up to ingest any fluids when you needed to..."

Both barristers sat in silence for a moment, contemplating that possibility.

"Well, it's all been resolved for the best," Jocelyn said finally. "And, by the way, please do stay safe yourself, you and Jonah. I suppose he's probably staying wherever he is, but if you speak with him anytime soon, please thank him from me, for the use of his room."

"He was rather amused, when I told him. But yeah, of course I will."

Jocelyn hadn't been aware that she was holding such a knot of tension in her gut until the ocean suddenly loomed into view, and relief at being home once more suddenly flooded her entire being. Sharon noticed the way that Jocelyn nearly pressed her nose to the window, as if pretending that she could see the water and the cliffs and the sea birds, despite her bad eyesight.

Maggie was standing outside the house when the car pulled up.

"Jocelyn!" she breathed, running into the barrister's arms as she stepped out.

Sharon, trying not to smile too broadly, quietly fetched Jocelyn's suitcase from the boot as the two older women held each other in a long embrace.

"And Sharon, thank you so, so much for everything," Maggie said finally, pulling herself away from Jocelyn. "Do you want to come in for a cuppa?"

"Oh, no thank you, I should be going," Sharon said politely.

"You sure, petal? It's no trouble at all, especially after such a long drive..."

"Really, I'm fine," smiled Sharon, oddly touched by the fact that she had finally earned that moniker from Maggie, who had never entirely forgiven Sharon for all of the pain she had once caused the Latimers. "Stay safe, though, both of you. And call me if you need anything?"

"Not as if we won't be in touch daily about this case," Jocelyn grinned.

"Fair enough." Sharon held out an elbow and raised her eyebrows, and after a moment, Jocelyn bumped Sharon's elbow with her own, smiling back. "Take care."

Jocelyn watched as Sharon's car disappeared down the drive, Maggie's hand clasped in her own. Then she followed Maggie inside their home, closed her eyes to breathe in the comforting familiarity of the space, wrapped her arms around Maggie once again as Maggie came to her, overwhelming Jocelyn with the smell of Maggie's shampoo and the warmth of her arms.

"Don't you ever scare me again like that," Maggie scolded her, resting her forehead against Jocelyn's. "God, Jocelyn, when I thought that I might never be able to hold you again like this... it would have just been so _unfair_ , you know?"

"I know," said Jocelyn.

Because Maggie didn't just mean the intrinsic unfairness of losing a loved one. No, for them, it would have been compounded by all of the years spent apart not due to disease, but due to choice. At least this time, Jocelyn's choosing not to have Maggie by her side was driven by a fear that even Maggie had to understand and respect.

"Should we be standing this close?" Jocelyn added. "Just in case I'm still at all contagious..."

Maggie smiled and kissed Jocelyn.

"Too late now, petal," she said. "Sharon Bishop will just have to come down here and nurse both of us back to health. I'm not letting you out of my sight again until all this has passed."

She stepped back.

"Well, welcome home," she said, smiling. "I hope _you'll_ let me make you some tea, at least? Oh, go sit on the couch, I still need to show you my new project, we only just began uploading things officially today!"

Bemused, Jocelyn wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch, marvelling at how the quotidian could seem so miraculous at a time like this. Maggie's laptop was open on the coffee table, and when Maggie reappeared with two steaming mugs of tea, she woke it back up and pulled up a YouTube screen.

"I was chatting with Paul Coates," she explained, "and we decided, what better for the world in a time of self-isolation than a series of virtual sermons, to bring people hope in their own homes?"

Maggie proudly hit the play button, then curled her legs up on the couch, her mug in her hands, her head resting against Jocelyn's shoulder, Jocelyn's free arm wrapped around Maggie. And, as Jocelyn watched the earnest young vicar launch into a speech about the importance of expressing love from a distance at times like these, she thanked whatever powers existed for allowing her to remain on earth for such a simple but perfect moment.


End file.
